


All I Want For Christmas

by Jhonni



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:52:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhonni/pseuds/Jhonni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Hannigram Christmas in July (2016) hosted by darkdreamsofhannigram and consciousdarkness (on Tumblr) </p><p>Pure Hannigram Christmas fluff with a little dash of spice</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas

Will was supposed to be looking forward to the holiday. Or at least the time off. That’s what normal people did. His students. The team at the BAU. 

Even Doctor Lecter had carved out a ten day vacation. They said their seasons greetings on the 20th. 

Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, he said. 

Fat chance. Will could only imagine how someone like that spent the holiday. Probably booked steady with lavish parties that Will would hate. 

Class warrior wasn’t exactly Will’s best side. And yet in the case of Doctor Lecter, it was the lesser of evils. Either dislike the man because he was one of them, and a psychiatrist to boot. Or admit the unthinkable. 

That he was attracted to him. 

That Will Graham, with all his salt and don’t-give-a-fucks, actually had a thing for the preening bastard.

Maybe time apart was a good thing. Their recent sessions had felt a little _close_. 

Of course he could be imagining most of it. Even so, it was hard to ignore those moments when Hannibal gave him a look that could melt ice. Will could swear he even heard his breathing change.

Hannibal. 

The name might have tumbled out once or twice. 

It always started the same way. A session. A long pause where Hannibal checked him over head to toe. 

“Tell me about your love life, Will.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Your fantasies then.”

Will would fight to meet his eyes. Hannibal would shift in that way of his. A signal that he was enjoying himself. A man completely at ease with what he was about to say.

“Do you imagine me fucking you, Will?”

That’s the point Will would lose it. Any promise to take his time - gone.

Christ. What a cliché. He definitely needed a break. 

The first day went better than expected. A long walk in the snow with the dogs. Hovering over a pot of stew killed a few hours. 

On the second day, he threw himself into catching up on his reading. 

By the third, he was restless. A text from Bev was as good an excuse as any to start drinking in the afternoon.

No, he didn’t want to go to the Christmas party. Yes, he was fine. No, he didn’t need any company.

He didn’t even bother with the dogs’ exercise that evening. Instead, he stood on the porch. Drinking. Letting the cold settle into his bones. 

After a few attempts at picking up his book failed, he resigned himself to doing the dishes. 

Wrist deep in suds, a knock caught him off guard. Bev would have texted first. Unless she was drunk. 

Fuck. She wouldn’t.

Winston ambled along as Will opened the door.

“Hello, Will.”

Fuck my life.

Will stared, wondering what was holding him up. 

A cloud of breath floated around Hannibal’s head. 

“May I come in?”

To Will’s surprise, an actual word came out of his mouth. 

“Sure.”

Hannibal’s hair was mussed from the wind. He was dressed in a charcoal overcoat with a black velvet collar. Leather gloves that Will tried not to associate with a sudden tensing of his muscles. 

His lips were redder than usual. 

Fuck. Now he was staring again.

“And who is this?” 

Crouched down, Hannibal offered a hand. Winston cautiously took a sniff.

Will stole a moment to gather himself. 

“Winston.” 

In his wildest dreams, Will never imagined Hannibal smiling at a dog. Smiling at all really. Not more than that vague guess-what-I’m-thinking expression.

But there it was. There _he_ was. Just a foot away. 

Hannibal rose to his full six feet, broad shouldered glory. 

“I hope you don’t mind the interruption. I waited at the party.”

A moment passed painfully slow. With Will now acutely aware that he was in his pajama pants and a t-shirt that he’d slept in for two nights. 

They were too close. There wasn’t enough air. 

There wasn’t enough air in all of Wolf Trap.

A shake of his head helped him focus. 

“No. I was just -”

He glanced around towards the sink, his unmade bed, the half-empty bottle on the table. 

“I was having a drink.”

Hannibal tugged at the fingers of his glove. 

“Would you mind some company?”

Will’s breath caught. His pulse climbed with an urgency that said he was far too sober. 

He waved a hand towards the sofa. 

“I’ll get another glass.” 

The sound of Hannibal shifting out of his coat raked over Will’s skin. He kept his back turned as he rinsed out a glass, praying for a casual tone.

“So, you were at the party?”

“I was.” 

The words hung with a pregnant pause. Even from across the room, Will could feel the weight of his attention looming like a shadow.

“I was hoping to run into you.”

Will resisted the urge to fire back the obvious question. He needed a drink first. 

Offering the glass, he risked a glance at Hannibal’s face. The smile was still there.

“I wouldn’t think that would be your crowd.” 

Hannibal poured for both of them. Will took a seat as far as possible on the sofa. Gulping a deep drink, he let his muscles unknot as best he could.

Hannibal stroked his thumbs over the glass, more pensive than Will had ever seen him. 

“It’s not.”

When he lifted his eyes, there was a warmth. Something indescribable that made Will’s chest tight. 

“It would be inappropriate for me to ask to see you socially. But if I were to run into you.”

“Or show up at my house.” 

Evidently, the whiskey was working. Or Hannibal’s anxiousness had helped Will find some backbone.

“Or show up at your house,” Hannibal said.

Will lifted his glass. “Would that resolve your ethical dilemma?” 

And now he was on a roll. 

Watching as Hannibal set down his drink, anticipation filled the space between them. 

“I couldn’t be faulted for acting on impulse in certain situations.” 

The knot in Will’s stomach twisted. His courage fell behind a fevered rush. As if Hannibal had read every page of his fantasies.

“Situations?” 

Hannibal’s eyes searched his before moving to Will’s mouth. 

“If I was drawn.”

Blood pumped loud in Will’s ears. He sucked in a sharp breath at a hand on his thigh, at Hannibal’s lips closing in.

It wasn’t a kiss. 

It was a paradigm shift. 

Lush. Longing.

He felt it everywhere. 

Their heads rested together. Hannibal’s breath spilled warm on his lips. 

“Are you drawn to do anything else?” Will puffed.

Hannibal made a sound. Almost a whimper. His eyes shifted towards the bed where Winston had made a nest on the pile of blankets.

“Is there room for me?”

The words wrapped around Will. 

In my bed or in my life?

Either way, the answer was the same.

A nod brushed his nose against Hannibal’s. Will leaned in to kiss him again. And again. 

“I’ll make room.”

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on Tumblr at lecteronthelam (Hannibal Lecter rp, etc) and acutehypersensitivity (Will Graham rp)


End file.
